Notes on travel

I tried to study today.
In quite a natural progression for this subject, my focus degenerated rapidly until I had to stop and do  something else. I figured I would go through and delete the cluster of notes amassed on my iPod over a couple of years.
Many were vague (‘cat’, ‘200’); others boring (‘buy x textbook’, ‘remember charger’).
Partway through, something from January cropped up. I hope you will humour me, I haven’t written anything “creative” since school. Bit embarrassed to post this!

Perhaps dust is the very essence of Cambodia. No matter how you cover up, it seems to find its way into your throat, your eyes, your ears. It fills your nostrils with earthen scents of hard work and heat. However hard you try, you cannot take a proper breath. Flyaway hair is swathed in a chalky robe. After leaving the roads, signs of travel prevail – eyes water, soles are stained. A few showers soon free your body of this lingering dust, however the mind cannot be so easily cleansed. For this, I am glad.

Worn out metaphorical crap? Let me know.
In an effort not to take myself too seriously, please note: the lack of proper breaths may not have just been the heady feelings of elation associated with travel – I picked up a nasty respiratory tract infection!